


Dangerous Things

by smallandsleepy



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22948624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallandsleepy/pseuds/smallandsleepy
Summary: Together, Nazi and Commie are pretty unstoppable.(Or: the auths as Awkward ExesTM)
Relationships: authleft/authright
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	Dangerous Things

Together, Nazi and Commie are pretty unstoppable. 

Nazi knows this all too well, all too intimately. 

Of course, he does not need Commie in order achieve his own authoritarian goals. Or purge degenerates. But fuck if seeing the other authoritarian again didn’t drag out every delicious memory of Commie he’d tried to repress after the war, awaken every slumbering nerve ending that aches dully for Commie’s touch. 

But Commie has changed. The degenerate anarchist has seduced and corrupted him. Nazi is sure of it. Commie is becoming… easily distracted. That cold, furious flame that used to smoulder through his eyes and set Nazi’s chest on fire appears less and less. And when it does, it is only ever directed at Nazi. 

And now the Ancom is finally gone, Commie has just been sulking like some average beta-cuck loser. Nazi knows this because he watches Commie all the time, and thinks about the good old days, until he cannot stand it anymore. 

“Commie, this display of weakness is disgusting.” 

It feels strange to stand here, alone with Commie but five feet apart, Commie muttering some degenerate bullshit about his precious Anarkiddy. In the good old days, it would have been Nazi at Commie’s side, all the time. And sometimes, it would have been Nazi’s hand against Commie’s chest, and Commie’s arm would have been twisted around him, and Commie’s desire for him, Commie pressing him into -- 

In the good old days, Commie was strong. 

Nazi straightens, silently curses, and continues. 

“... Isn’t it law and order that keeps society functioning, not ‘rights’ and ‘identity’?” 

And then Commie smiles at him again, nodding at what he is saying, and Nazi’s world rights itself a little. 

“Yes! Literally everything humanity has ever done has been as group, not individual!” 

Ah, yes. Nazi could always get Commie to agree with him more than Commie would ever admit. Some things didn’t change. Some things never should.

He talks Commie into an amicable truce, their first in a while. Still five feet apart most of the time, but that doesn’t matter anymore. It really doesn’t. Nazi even manages to get Commie to play fucking Call of Duty, have Commie’s shoulder brush stiffly against his, just for a brief second, while he yells his favourite slurs at the screen. 

Sometimes he wonders if Commie even remembers. He has to. Commie has to remember… him. 

They sleep in different rooms when traispsing through Ancapistan. Nazi lies awake and thinks about how much of a degenerate he sometimes feels like when thinking about Commie. He will have to lodge a complaint about the quality of the beds, obviously. Fucking mass-produced shitty beds keeping him up all night. 

But now the pesky anarchists are gone, there is nothing to stop him from working with Commie the way he did before. 

They storm Centrist Center within minutes, and then Commie is by his side again, almost shoulder to shoulder, facing down their enemies. Commie is taller than him, as usual, and acts like he knows better, as usual, and -- 

“Something’s not right!” 

Well, fuck that shit. Commie still makes Nazi stay and shoot at the centrist while he charges forward with his bare hands. Bullets sound out across the walls, and amid the din, Nazi hears Commie yell. But before he can register what has happened, a bullet pierces his shoulder and pain explodes across his vision. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking centrist. In the flash of pain, he dimly sees Commie yanked across the room as though by an invisible force. 

And then his stomach sinks as he fucking realises. 

“Commie!” Commie swings and crash lands beside him, panting with shock. The centrist advances on them, wielding his horshoe like a fucking shield. 

“We cannot prove him wrong -- we have to summon… him.” 

Almost in slow motion, he sees understanding dawn on Commie’s face. Sees the recollection flood into his eyes. Commie’s mouth opens into horror and he curses. He twists his face away from Nazi’s, and Nazi knows that he has understood. 

“We have to!” Nazi tries not to wheeze through his three bulletwounds. “He’s -- too powerful!” 

And then Commie extends his hand to him again, like he hasn’t since those fucking good old days, and Nazi reaches out, half-blind, through the haze of pain, to Commie, Commie’s hand, like he hasn’t since -- 

And then Nazbol descends from the heavens like the t-posing Devil himself, the world rips apart in a blur of pink and gold, and Nazi has to catch his breath, stumble against Commie’s shoulder, and think that, together, he and Commie are fucking unstoppable.

**Author's Note:**

> Always kinda felt the Awkward ExesTM dynamic between them for some reason lol
> 
> Also I have no clue how to write fascist characters I hope I didn't do too badly


End file.
